Josh/Viggo fic for keyweegirlie. *mwah*
Title: Kindle.
Pairing: Josh Holloway/Viggo Mortensen.
Rating: R.
Summary: Smut. ;p
Thanks to zelda_zee for the beta.
Happy Birthday, Cassie!!!!
I hope you are having the most wonderful of days filled to the brim with cake and presents and all the love you so totally deserve. *hearts* I'm sorry you've had to wait so long for me to write this for you and I'm sorry it isn't longer but I couldn't let your birthday go by without giving you Josh and Viggo. You can stop poking me now! (Or, you know, come up with another pairing and poke me about that instead. *g*)
Kindle
Viggo tastes of cigarettes and whisky. Smoky-dark, rich and heady, kindling a warmth inside Josh that spreads slowly through his limbs until he feels pulled down by it, weighted somehow by the feel of Viggo’s mouth on his.
It’s slow and hazy, each moment measured out in a steady build of sensation, his senses heightened even as the room around him fades away. Gone are the sounds of the party downstairs, replaced by the softer sounds of breathing and the whisper of denim rubbing against denim as Viggo moves closer, stealing the last of Josh’s space.
Josh shivers as Viggo’s fingers trace the lines of his jaw then dip beneath his chin, trailing down his neck, leaving streaks of fire on his skin that match the heat burning and pooling inside him. He mirrors the steady fall of Viggo’s hand -- ever downwards, pushing into the tight space between them -- with his own, moving it from where it cups the back of Viggo’s head to slide down the contours of his spine, mapping vertebrae shrouded beneath the cling of a T-shirt with his fingertips until they reach a hem and slide up and beneath.
Viggo’s skin feels hot beneath his fingers. Josh traces patterns as he starts to explore, learning the hard lines of muscle and the curve of bone, eliciting soft exhalations that he catches open-mouthed from Viggo’s lips to his. Josh feels unreal yet hyper-real, the prickle of sweat as it seeps from his pores is magnified, his skin sparking as it’s touched by Viggo’s hands, Viggo’s mouth, Viggo’s breath. Every contact adding fuel to the fire that burns inside.
Josh skims the waistband of Viggo’s jeans, loose fit on lean hips, room for his hand to slip beneath, then groans as Viggo grinds forward in response. He spreads his legs wider, guides Viggo forward, wanton in his need. He hears the rasp of one zip then another, feels the heat of breath on his neck as Viggo’s head falls forward, mouthing words onto his skin. His own head falls back and then he is lost, mind swimming, drowning in the silk-smooth hard-hot of Viggo’s cock gliding against his and perfect pressure of Viggo’s hand as it wraps around the both of them, urging and guiding, drawing the flames that lick at the base of his spine up and out, spreading them through his nerves, through his veins, wildfire that catches on his skin, roaring through his senses, engulfing him until the world burns white hot around him and he comes with a wordless cry, body arched and taut, aware of nothing but the harsh sound of panted breaths and the shudder of Viggo heavy against him as the world starts to swim back into view.
Pairing: Josh Holloway/Viggo Mortensen.
Rating: R.
Summary: Smut. ;p
Thanks to zelda_zee for the beta.
Happy Birthday, Cassie!!!!
I hope you are having the most wonderful of days filled to the brim with cake and presents and all the love you so totally deserve. *hearts* I'm sorry you've had to wait so long for me to write this for you and I'm sorry it isn't longer but I couldn't let your birthday go by without giving you Josh and Viggo. You can stop poking me now! (Or, you know, come up with another pairing and poke me about that instead. *g*)
Kindle
Viggo tastes of cigarettes and whisky. Smoky-dark, rich and heady, kindling a warmth inside Josh that spreads slowly through his limbs until he feels pulled down by it, weighted somehow by the feel of Viggo’s mouth on his.
It’s slow and hazy, each moment measured out in a steady build of sensation, his senses heightened even as the room around him fades away. Gone are the sounds of the party downstairs, replaced by the softer sounds of breathing and the whisper of denim rubbing against denim as Viggo moves closer, stealing the last of Josh’s space.
Josh shivers as Viggo’s fingers trace the lines of his jaw then dip beneath his chin, trailing down his neck, leaving streaks of fire on his skin that match the heat burning and pooling inside him. He mirrors the steady fall of Viggo’s hand -- ever downwards, pushing into the tight space between them -- with his own, moving it from where it cups the back of Viggo’s head to slide down the contours of his spine, mapping vertebrae shrouded beneath the cling of a T-shirt with his fingertips until they reach a hem and slide up and beneath.
Viggo’s skin feels hot beneath his fingers. Josh traces patterns as he starts to explore, learning the hard lines of muscle and the curve of bone, eliciting soft exhalations that he catches open-mouthed from Viggo’s lips to his. Josh feels unreal yet hyper-real, the prickle of sweat as it seeps from his pores is magnified, his skin sparking as it’s touched by Viggo’s hands, Viggo’s mouth, Viggo’s breath. Every contact adding fuel to the fire that burns inside.
Josh skims the waistband of Viggo’s jeans, loose fit on lean hips, room for his hand to slip beneath, then groans as Viggo grinds forward in response. He spreads his legs wider, guides Viggo forward, wanton in his need. He hears the rasp of one zip then another, feels the heat of breath on his neck as Viggo’s head falls forward, mouthing words onto his skin. His own head falls back and then he is lost, mind swimming, drowning in the silk-smooth hard-hot of Viggo’s cock gliding against his and perfect pressure of Viggo’s hand as it wraps around the both of them, urging and guiding, drawing the flames that lick at the base of his spine up and out, spreading them through his nerves, through his veins, wildfire that catches on his skin, roaring through his senses, engulfing him until the world burns white hot around him and he comes with a wordless cry, body arched and taut, aware of nothing but the harsh sound of panted breaths and the shudder of Viggo heavy against him as the world starts to swim back into view.